Come Sail Away
by honestgrins
Summary: Ships navigate both choppy waters and smooth sailing on bright, clear days. The ship is sailing now, friends, so let's climb aboard! (Fall 2017 Klaroline AU Week)
1. Love It or List It

**Klaroline AU Week Day 1: Crossovers and Fusions**

 **Caroline and Klaus are the popular hosts of HGTV's _Love It or List It_ , and Bonnie is a huge fan. Their banter is so fun to watch, it's hard to believe they're not a real couple...**

* * *

"But are they going to Love It…" Klaus smirked into the camera, winking.

"Or List It?" Caroline finished with a gentle hip-check to her co-host.

Bonnie avidly watched as the director called, "Cut!" to huddle with the cameraman, waving over the famous faces that filled her screen on a near-daily basis. "I still can't believe you got us on the show," she whispered excitedly to her wife.

Shrugging, Nora smoothed a smudge from Bonnie's lipstick. "It was the only way I could get you to consider a remodel. I figured you would be too distracted by _Klaroline_ to put up a real fight."

"Oh, we're definitely moving," Bonnie automatically dismissed, "but we'll be moving into a house Caroline Forbes finds for us!"

The tenacious real estate agent always managed to find amazing contenders for the show, a seemingly perfect house that miraculously matched the buyers' demands. For Bonnie, it was like watching magic, and she didn't always understand how the clients turned down a dream home.

Except when she saw their _real_ home redesigned with the Klaus Mikaelson touch, then it made sense. His artistic eye created a magic all its own, taking what was outdated and turning it into something beautiful.

"And can it on the Klaroline teasing, okay?" Bonnie quietly begged, embarrassed. "They'd just make a really cute couple."

She wasn't much for following celebrities, she preferred books and TV for her dramatic consumption. But if Bonnie had to choose a "will they, won't they" couple to buy tabloids about, Klaus and Caroline's chemistry would be worth the money. They were fiercely competitive with each other, despite keeping the trash talk at a light flirt. Entertainment blogs swore there was something going on between the interior designer and the realtor off-camera - they even had their own ship name - and she wanted to believe it was true.

The director had ushered her cameraman toward the living room, leaving behind her hosts bickering like an old married couple. Even as Nora pulled her toward them, Bonnie couldn't resist hanging onto the details of their murmured conversation. "You already shook on it, sweetheart. Surely you're not afraid of losing our wager."

Bristling, Caroline bit back her response when she saw their guests eyeing them in intrigue. "Hey," she effortlessly slid into a friendly host mode. "Are you two ready to talk about dream homes?"

"They're already in it, love," Klaus countered. "But we should discuss what it will take to make _this_ home everything you want it to be."

"And," Caroline broke in, "how to make this a good experience for you both. Klaus and I can get competitive with each other, but this process isn't about us at all. I mean, I do have the better record so far-"

Klaus cleared his throat, amused. "However, these are your lives. We start with your ideas and desires, and you make final decisions. Period."

Caroline nodded in agreement. "Seriously, we may be total control freaks, but this is your show. Please don't hesitate to get us back on track for your vision, especially if this one tries to incorporate red walls and brown leather everywhere."

Holding his hand to his heart, Klaus's light tone was defensive. "I'm a professional, and I can appreciate that not everyone shares my impeccable taste for rich, warm tones."

"Can you? Can you really?"

Her cheeks hurting from smiling, Bonnie loved watching the back and forth between them. Even Nora was holding back a laugh until two quick snaps from the living room caught their attention."

"Children," the director called, clearly used to the banter. "Time to talk priorities. Enzo's all set up to film."

"Thanks, Kat," Caroline answered. She linked elbows with Bonnie, winking at Nora as she lead the way through the door. "Come on, let's talk about your dream house. I've got some great listings lined up for inspiration."

"Cheating's beneath you, love."

Glancing over her shoulder, Caroline stuck out her tongue. "Be ready to pay up, Mikaelson."

Bonnie turned up a curious gaze. "Pay up?"

"Running bet," Caroline shrugged.

Kat corralled them into position before Bonnie could ask more, because - damn - that was an interesting tidbit.

What did her favorite duo have as a running bet?

* * *

Klaus's hand scribbled over the tentative remodel plans, scratching notes as Nora rattled off her ideas. Bonnie, though, kept looking for hints that he and Caroline were closer than their audience knew. She had long since clocked a complete lack of wedding rings or mentions of significant others, but the way he kept sneaking glances to his co-host while she chatted with Kat had to mean something.

Right?

"Did you have any questions, Bonnie?" Klaus asked expectantly.

Blinking, she realized she had been staring a bit too pointedly at his face. "Um, no," she stammered. Her chest swelled with a sudden intake of breath. "How long have you and Caroline been working together?"

He smiled easily, shrugging off the non-sequitur. "The show's been running for three years."

Simple, direct - not nearly enough for Bonnie. "Caroline mentioned her record is better," she prodded. "Do you guys really keep score? Trade a trophy back and forth, maybe?"

A smaller grin, almost shy, pulled at his lips. "The satisfaction of winning is rarely enough," he answered, cryptic. "Raising the stakes makes things interesting."

Coughing delicately, though, Nora tried to bring the conversation back. "About the floors…" She sent a chastising look to her wife, lacing their fingers together in mild apology at another tempting thread of information lost. "I'd really prefer tile over laminate for the basement.

* * *

Crowded together on the front porch of Caroline's latest listing, Bonnie and Nora heatedly discussed their reactions to the seemingly charming ranch house - until they saw the inside. "I know it's superficial," Nora defended, "but the murals are creepy and too much."

"They can be painted over," Bonnie argued, though she definitely held back a shiver at the bad feeling some of the more lurid images inspired. "The closets were huge."

Nora snorted incredulously. "I'm still stuck on the frowning woman. She's just frowning, in every room. I can't imagine why anyone would want to paint the same woman over and over, let alone with such a grimace."

Shaking her head, Caroline locked the front door, careful to avoid looking at Enzo and the camera he held. "Artist types," she muttered simply. "They never want to give up a muse."

Enzo choked on a laugh, only for Caroline to glare at him after all. "Shut up."

With a puzzled tilt of her head, Bonnie wondered at the exchange and the possible clues it held for the mystery of Caroline's personal life. However, Nora started to gloat about how great the bathroom renovation was looking back home, and her hopes dwindled at finding another house in time for the final decision.

* * *

"No hard feelings," Caroline promised, giving both Nora and Bonnie goodbye hugs. They had finally chosen to love their remodeled home, even with Bonnie's stubborn insistence that moving was the only option she would accept. With the decision wrapped, the filming team was ready to take on the next project. "This place looks beautiful."

"Thank you, love." Klaus winked at Caroline and offered them a cordial handshake, though his charming smile was warmer after weeks of working together. "I hope you both enjoy it to the fullest."

Nora gave a private smile, squeezing her wife's hip. "We intend to. Thank you both so much, for everything."

"The pleasure was ours," Klaus answered. "Mine more than Caroline's, I'd wager."

With narrowed eyes, Caroline shook her head ruefully at the obvious pun. "Don't get cocky, there's always the next one. And it's easy to be happy for Bonnie and Nora getting to fall in love with their home all over again."

Bonnie waved as they continued to bicker all the way out of the house, wishing she had shored up the courage to ask what she really wanted to know. "They're totally dating, right?"

Letting out an amused sigh, Nora sidled up to where Enzo was packing away his camera. "Help my wife put her crazy theories to rest. Are Klaus and Caroline together, or what?"

The cameraman smirked, like he had been expecting a similar question all along. "Who, those two? That'd be a contentious marriage, to be sure. They do complement each other, I'll give them that - but they're both pretty private, you'd have to ask them."

"Do you know what their bet is, at least?" Bonnie asked.

But he shook his head, "Sorry, darling. Ignorance is bliss."

Sadly, Bonnie watched them leave. Despite the unsatisfying non-answer as to their relationship status, a part of her would still hold out hope for Klaroline.

They seemed so good together.

* * *

Letting himself into his own dream home, Klaus made his way to the back patio with the fresh art supplies he'd made a special trip to buy. "I think I want to focus on the line of your neck, brightened by the moonlight," he announced, smirking at the nearly naked blonde waiting for him. Grateful for the privacy fence surrounding their property, he dropped a kiss on her resigned pout.

Caroline set aside her phone with a mournful sigh, her silk robe snagging on the patio chair as she turned to face him. "Does that mean I can put on pants? My ass is freezing."

"You know the rules, sweetheart," he teased. Sitting beside her, his lips fell to graze the edge of her robe, slipping it aside so he could nibble at her bare skin. "I win a tastefully nude model, you win a naughty massage. No one likes a sore loser."

She snorted, leaning into his touch. "You married one," she pointed out. "Enjoy your victory while it lasts, hubby, because I will win the next one."

The corners of his lips turned up, and she could feel him smile against her neck. "Whatever you say, love."


	2. Once Again

**Klaroline AU Week Day 2: Adversaries**

 **A broken engagement leaves hearts hurting, but Caroline doesn't know what to feel when her former betrothed returns to polite society - especially when she's already promised to another.**

* * *

It was like time had stopped.

Caroline might have sworn the air was sapped from the room, but that would mean she could have even tried to breathe at the moment she saw him. Her champagne glass had started to shake from where she held it in shock, still inches from her lips.

"All right, gorgeous?" a familiar voice asked, his steadying hand warm on her elbow. Enzo's other hand reached for her glass, a finger grazing intimately along her glove.

If she had been imagining Klaus Mikaelson standing frozen on the other side of the ballroom, that illusion was shattered by the fierce possession in his eyes as he tracked the closing distance between her and her fiance - a position he had held only a year before.

* * *

 _A ragged breath tore through her chest, her father's voice_ faint _in her ears as he continued speaking._

 _"-and I know you must be disappointed, but surely you understand my decision. The scandal of a broken engagement will be short-lived compared to the consequences of marrying an illegitimate son."_

 _Blinking away confused tears, Caroline shook her head. "I don't understand," she answered angrily. Her hands formed into fists on her knees, nails biting into her palms. "Lord Mikaelson disowns my betrothed, and your response is to cancel the wedding? Klaus needs me now more than ever."_

 _Society rumors had always floated around the state of Mikael and Esther Mikaelson's marriage, but none more than the thought that one of their many children was the product of a torrid affair. Most wagered on the youngest, Henrik, but a public spat with Mikael revealed Niklaus to be the bastard son - and just two weeks before he was to be wed to Caroline._

 _"Where is he?" she asked, breathless in panic. "I have to-"_

 _"Klaus is already gone," he answered. His voice was too gentle, too pitying not to be telling the truth. "Next season, this will all have resolved itself and we can find you another match."_

 _Her eyes fluttered shut as the reality of the situation set in. Their courtship had been a_ hard won _battle of wills, none more surprised than Caroline that the rakish Klaus Mikaelson truly fell in love with her; when faced with her father's opposition, however, Klaus left her behind._

 _He didn't even say goodbye._

* * *

Stiffening at the hand Enzo placed on her back, Caroline was finally spurred into action. "Pardon me," she said breathlessly. "I should find my mother, there is something I meant to discuss with her earlier."

His eyes locked on the man edging his way around the crowd toward them, and Enzo nodded tacit approval of her retreat. "Give her my love," he answered, bringing her hand up to his lips. Though the other guests may have seen it as an automatic gesture of a betrothed, Caroline knew it to be more proprietary, a display to warn off her former lover. Leaning closer, he murmured into her ear, "Shall I give him your regards?"

"No." Her head shook in panic as she pulled away, clutching at her fiance's hand with a final squeeze. "Thank you," she said, only to turn into a broad chest, large hands coming to stabilize her shoulders.

His crisp, white cravat was stuck with a familiar pin, the sight of it clenching something terrible in her heart; its deep, blue sapphire belonged to her late grandmother, turned into a wedding present for her beloved. Her eyes already burning with tears, they traced up the line of his throat, over the slight stubble of his chin, to the pink bow of his lips. They were twisted in the oddest combination of a smirk and a grimace, perhaps the only appropriate response to such an awkward circumstance.

"Hello, Caroline."

She blinked, searching for a nonchalance she didn't feel. "Klaus."

* * *

 _Rebekah eyed her shrewdly as she sipped her tea. "You're quite pretty for an American."_

 _"You're too kind." With a wry smile, Caroline gently set down her cup. The Petrova sisters had warned her that Rebekah Mikaelson Gerard could be a spoiled brat, and they were surprised to hear a common American girl in her first season garnered an invitation to a private tea. Caroline sensed it could open many society doors or ruin her entirely, and this Rebekah would have to be impressed - even if it meant engaging in a bit of catty behavior. "Katerina mentioned how charming the Mikaelson men could be, but she clearly underestimated your demeanor."_

 _Unlike the offended air she had expected, though, Rebekah merely sniffed in approval. "Witty, too," she noted. "You'll do just fine. If a suitor can't appreciate your wit, he's not worth marrying."_

 _Caroline smiled more genuinely at the advice. "You and Lord Gerard seem a happy couple. I'd be honored to find a similarly happy match."_

 _Shrugging delicately, Rebekah sipped at her own tea. "Have you found any prospects?"_

 _Before she could answer, though, the butler cleared his throat from the doorway. "Begging your pardon, Lady, but your brother-"_

 _"-needs not be announced, thank you," a new voice announced imperiously. A handsome man strolled into the sitting room, dropping a kiss on his sister's cheek. "I came to see Marcel, but your husband seems to be doing his chores."_

 _Rebekah rolled her eyes, waving him off. "He's spending the day with the horses, something about a contender for the races. Niklaus, this is Caroline Forbes, whose introductory tea you are interrupting," she admonished. "Caroline, my favorite brother who tends to ignore the niceties of polite society."_

 _He turned toward Caroline, almost taken aback to see someone sitting there. "Please," he said, his voice dripping with a sudden charm as he fell into a bow, "call me Klaus."_

* * *

Whispers had started, reminding Caroline she was in a crowded, society gathering. "This is neither the time, nor the place, Lord Mikaelson," she responded more formally. Dropping into a slight curtsy, she forced her breathing to even out. "Enjoy your evening."

Before she could slip around him, though, he stepped into her path. "Honor me with a dance, sweetheart?" he asked quietly as he offered his hand.

* * *

 _His thumb rubbed the lace of her glove as they took a turn through the garden, and he smiled as Caroline leaned into his side. Despite their chaperone duties, Rebekah and Marcel were too distracted with their own canoodling to make any comment. "Are you cold, love?"_

 _"No, the weather's perfect for once," she answered, raising her face to bask in the sun. "I've missed this, a sunny day with no chance of rain."_

 _"Do you regret leaving Virginia?" It was an impulsive question, not one Klaus was sure he wanted the answer to. His mother had often harped on him to find a wife, but even she was surprised how quickly he sought Caroline's hand. Their courtship was lively, to say the least, but a real affection had grown between the too-polite barbs they traded. He found himself greedy to spend more time with her and keep her for himself - greedier still so as not to risk losing her as quickly as he found her._

 _She paused in their walk, wickedly checking to see how closely Rebekah was watching them. "Come on," she said, darting behind a hedge and pulling Klaus behind her._

 _Laughing, he took the chance to hold her close, running his lips along her cheek. "Miss Forbes, what a scandal," he teased. Whispering into her ear, he delighted in the small shiver she couldn't contain. "Whatever do you mean to do with me?"_

 _"I don't regret leaving Virginia." She gently reached up to hold his face, smiling at the awe in his expression. "By leaving, I get to marry the man I love."_

 _Klaus dragged his nose against hers, stealing a quick kiss while he had the chance. But Marcel's voice floated closer, and he stepped back to a more respectable distance. Still, he brought her hand to his lips, if only to linger a bit longer. "Oh, love," he breathed, his heart full_ with _a wonderful ache he only associated with Caroline._

* * *

Enzo moved forward until he fully stood at Caroline's side, subtly offering his arm as well. "Lady Caroline wishes to sit with her mother for a spell, then I'm afraid I have claimed her final set." She gratefully slid her hand into the crook of Enzo's elbow at his defense.

Klaus's spine straightened at their comfortable touch. But his eyes, they betrayed a dangerous hurt she had seen turn violent in their youth. "I don't believe we have been introduced." His voice was strained in its lightness, hardly the polite inquiry it belief. "Klaus Mikaelson, Earl of Hertford."

"And this is Viscount St. John, Lorenzo Augustine," Caroline broke in, the men's staring match too tense for her liking. Of course, she doubted her next words would improve the situation. "We're to be married next month."

He didn't seem surprised to hear that, though his mouth set in a grim line. "So Rebekah said. She also mentioned your father's passing."

Frozen, Caroline felt the pulse in her ears speed up. "Don't," she bit out.

It had been a difficult year for the Forbes family. First, the sudden end to their only child's promising betrothal marred her chances for the season. Even upon introduction to the strapping Viscount St. John, it was hardly the love match Caroline had found with Klaus; but he was kind and they had built a true friendship over the summer.

Then, her father died.

Suddenly facing an entailed estate without a male heir, Caroline needed a husband to support herself and her mother. With no other prospects to interest him, Enzo happily made the offer to be marriage partners, which she happily accepted.

After all, her former fiancé hadn't bothered to return for her.

* * *

 _The teacup clattered against the saucer, Rebekah's eyes wide with surprise. "You're not serious?"_

 _Caroline serenely nodded. "He's a good man," she vouched, though her friend was well aware of the Viscount's virtues. Despite the painful connections they shared, Rebekah had remained a close friend despite her brother's societal disappearance. Caroline was one of the few allowed to visit the Gerard home since Rebekah had gone into confinement. "The wedding is set for October, well after your little one makes his or her appearance. No excuses, Bekah."_

 _Rubbing her large belly, Rebekah shook her head. "Caro, I know it has been difficult, but N-"_

 _"No." Voice firm, Caroline refused to even hear his name. She had long forbidden Rebekah to act as a go-between, not after he hadn't bothered to answer the one letter she allowed to be passed on through Marcel. "Enzo and I care for each other, and my mother will be supported. That's enough."_

 _"What about love?" Rebekah's voice was quiet, tentative. "Something is going to come to pass, soon, and you might miss the chance to have more than enough. You could have everything."_

 _Caroline frowned. "What do you mean?"_

 _With an overwhelmed sigh, Rebekah took her friend's hand. "I'm not supposed to tell you," she confided, "but you deserve to know that Nik's-"_

 _"Bekah!"_

 _"-Nik's birth father is working to make him a legitimate heir. He's coming home, Caroline, and he's coming for you." She squeezed their joined hands tightly, begging her to understand. "At least meet with him, even if it's just to finally put an end to the pining. On both sides."_

 _Almost shaking, Caroline tried not to panic. "He doesn't deserve such peace."_

 _"Perhaps not," Rebekah answered sadly. "But you do, as will your Lorenzo, should you get married after all."_

 _Pinning her friend with a glare, Caroline couldn't help but think she had a point._

* * *

"Perhaps," Enzo interjected, placing a calm hand over Caroline's, "this conversation would be best over tea." The crowd around them had only grown more interested, and this confrontation hardly needed an audience.

Her breathing hitched as she tried to settle her racing heart, even as Klaus watched her panicked reaction carefully. She tried to focus on Enzo and his grounding presence, despite her every urge to reach out to the man she once loved. "I-I shall speak with my mother," she hedged.

"Please," Klaus said, echoing a memory with an earnest she didn't understand, "join me tomorrow afternoon, at my estate. I'll send a coach." His eyes slid to Enzo, a twitch of his lips almost unnoticeable if Caroline hadn't been staring. "For both of you, if need be."

"Thank you for the invitation, Lord Mikaelson." Her voice felt weak at the cold address, and she slipped her hand from Enzo's elbow. Dropping into a small curtsy, she felt the full weight of his gaze fall back on her. "Please excuse me, I must get to my mother now."

Klaus gently grabbed her hand and bowed over it; only the barest brush of his mouth warmed her glove. "Until tomorrow," he promised quietly, his intentions clear. Caroline felt she couldn't look away, too many memories of love and pain passing between them.

Clearing his throat, though, Enzo seemed more concerned with the curious eyes watching them all. "Tomorrow it is," he said, offering his arm again.

Caroline automatically accepted, but her mind was occupied with the burning sense of Klaus watching them leave. "Tomorrow," she breathed.

Idly, she wondered if her second engagement was as doomed as her first.


	3. Collectors

**Klaroline AU Week Day 3: Sci-fi and Post-apocalypse**

 **Ten years after the reckoning, Caroline isn't quite used to the new world order or Klaus's position in it. (Post S4 Canon)**

* * *

She knew accepting the invitation could be a mistake, but it never occurred to her to pass up the opportunity.

The automated car he had sent for her stopped at the imposing front door, and Caroline's eyes rolled at the castle the Originals called home. Their centennial gala tradition seemed to thrive regardless of the world reckoning, and vampires always liked a party.

Caroline could hear the thrum of other guests inside, a pounding bass beating underneath; more than three hundred years since homecoming, and she still hadn't gotten used to the grandeur of a Mikaelson gathering. Careful with the delicate fabric of her dress, she shuffled out of the car with a fierce grip on her clutch.

Keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of trouble, Caroline made her way to the entrance, where wait staff promptly offered her a glass of chilled champagne. With only slight hesitation, she gratefully took a deep sip, the alcohol helping to soothe her frayed nerves.

The opulent ballroom belied the den of iniquity it really was. Despite fine jewels and haute couture, vampires far older than Caroline could guess were acting like teenagers on spring break - if teenagers were drunk on blood and lust. Humans were passed freely like toys, and more than a few couches were claimed for openly sexual displays.

She was hardly the naive girl she was in Mystic Falls, but Caroline's throat clogged with disgust at the overindulgence of it all. Even just a decade earlier, and she would have happily joined in the fun.

But then the reckoning happened.

Natural disasters destroyed half the world as they knew it, most of the human population wiped out due to a lack of resources. Vampires and witches managed to survive in greater numbers, though werewolves struggled to live long enough to pass on the gene to their children. Supernatural status soon became a commodity, for witches to trade spells of abundance or curses of famine, for vampires to willingly share the gift of immortality. None were more successful in building an empire of wealth and influence than the Original family.

Like a magnet pulling her in, Caroline glanced up to find Klaus staring at her. Suddenly, she was back in high school, wondering why the hell a thousand-year-old hybrid would be interested in a baby vampire. Time had yet to lessen their apparent effect on each other, her breath catching as he moved toward her.

Striding through the crowd with that infuriating smirk on his face, Klaus was temptation himself in a well-cut tuxedo. "You're a hard woman to find, sweetheart," he greeted, watching Caroline finish her drink in a heady gulp. Charming as ever, something about him seemed tense, calculating.

She passed the glass off to a server, needing the distraction to brace herself. Her voice was deceptively light and even, "What's twenty years between friends?" That little Tuscan villa she had left him in was underwater now, a fact she thought about from time to time.

"Quite a lot," he answered, eyes narrowing at her masked reaction, "especially given the particular events of the last ten." His fingers brushed back her hair, to trace reverently along her exposed collarbone. "Honestly, I'm surprised you managed to receive my invitation."

"You must have gone to some trouble, reaching me all the way in Nepal." Caroline swept her gaze across the room, noting the few interested looks they were getting. Rebekah had snorted in derision, only to go back to the bloody human she was feasting on; Elijah was decidedly more suspicious in his neat repose, reclined in an armchair nearby. The others were strangers to Caroline, but there was an easily explained sexual glint to their appreciative gaze. Clearing her throat, she turned back to Klaus with a curious expression. "Are you glad I came?"

His smirk softened, and his hand dropped to hers. "Dance with me," he said, already pulling her close. Though their simple sway was hardly the lustful embrace others were engaging in, it somehow felt more intimate to Caroline.

But this was the man who could flirt during a murder, and she was keenly aware of the danger he posed despite his gentle voice. "Half the world was gone, and you just disappeared, love," Klaus murmured. "For too long, I searched before I finally realized...you were either dead, or you were hiding from me."

Caroline leaned into him, oddly comforted by his implied accusation. "I forgot how good megalomania looks on you," she teased. "The all-powerful hybrid can't find little, old me."

His grip turned harsh, and the world tilted as he flashed them out of the room. Closing her eyes, Caroline dug her fingers into his shoulder and tucked her clutch between them. The air crackled in her ears when they suddenly stopped in what was obviously his bedroom. "What the hell, Klaus?"

"Do not play the innocent," he warned, his voice fierce with rage. "You were dead, for all I knew, and you joke? I took great pains to verify that the rumored blonde vampire traipsing through the Himalayas really was Caroline Forbes, and yet I can't shake the feeling you're only here for some nefarious design."

Shoving out her arms to demand some space, Caroline snarled right back in his face, "Because you're a paranoid ass!" With a huff, she straightened out her dress. "I'm sorry you were worried about me, but I was a little busy surviving a freaking apocalypse, okay?"

Klaus ran a hand through his hair, the outward sign of his emotional distress surprising to them both. "I would have kept you safe," he insisted. "Why not come looking for me?"

"I'm here now." Caroline shrugged helplessly.

His tongue slipping across his bottom lip in agitated thought, Klaus dropped his eyes to the clutch she still held. "You know, Elijah has been tracking a so-called liberator throughout Asia," he said, almost casual. "Some vampires have reported losing their blood stocks. Never too many humans at a time, but enough to cause shortages for their leisure."

Wishing she had more champagne, Caroline raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I wouldn't have guessed, with how many human party favors you have out in the ballroom."

The silence between them was loaded as Klaus watched her carefully. "I'm not shocked you have made powerful enemies in your quest to be a good little vampire," he finally said, his steps toward her measured and powerful. "But to come after me, my family… What was your plan, love?"

Her hand shook as he slowly pried the clutch out of her grasp, plucking the vervain-wolfsbane syringe from it with a disapproving click of his tongue. "Slip the syringe to Rebekah, sow a little sibling discord to provide myself some cover and confusion to get my targets out of your human stables. Which is a gross concept, by the way."

Klaus's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Targets?"

"Yeah," Caroline scoffed, giving into the temptation of the bar cart near the bed. She poured them both a glass of scotch and took a generous sip before shrugging. "This whole 'liberator' reputation sounds great, but it's pretty disingenuous. Vampires hold ridiculous grudges, and a lot of them only care about the status of how many human blood bags they have at their mercy. They hire me to ruin their competition's day, or a witch wants a family member back, or a powerful human accidentally gets taken. Regardless of the situation, I get hired to rescue a target or three. Not only do I get paid and more than a few favors from clients, but the humans don't mind letting me take a drink before they go free."

"That's how you've survived, for ten years?" He accepted the other glass of scotch, moving to sit on the bed as Caroline looked around at the various artwork on display. "I can't imagine that's steady work."

"You're, like, the pettiest of the petty, Klaus," she pointed out honestly. "The only reason you don't need my services are because you probably have lower level vampires on permanent staff for the family."

He shrugged - she wasn't wrong. Klaus looked down again at the syringe he still held, irritation still rubbing at his veins. "And who hired you to attack us tonight?"

"That would be me." The new voice made Caroline jump, but Klaus had sensed Elijah's approach. He merely turned to where his older brother leaned in the doorway. "I used an emissary, of course, if only to see how far Miss Forbes would get in her task. A security test, if you would."

Smirking up at her, Klaus chuckled. "Don't feel bad, love, foes much older than yourself have failed against our family."

With an exaggerated pout, Caroline raised a hand to his cheek, gently stroking the stubble. "Oh, Klaus, you know I don't fail," she sighed. His smirk fell, but amusement still danced in his eyes. She glanced over her shoulder to where Elijah seemed bored by their intimate behavior. "My partner has already cleared the targets to your emissary, you should be getting confirmation any minute now. Because yes, I already knew about your plan to test me and likely feed my 'betrayal' to Klaus."

She turned back to the hybrid, who was watching her with open admiration. The little blonde distraction struck again, and he couldn't look prouder. "Still glad I came?"

Elijah's phone buzzed in his pocket, but they were lost in their own world as Klaus pulled her down to straddle his lap. "That depends." His brother made a quick escape, leaving him to breathe temptation against Caroline's lips. "How long do you intend to stay?"

Humming with delight, she leaned in, only to tease him with the barest contact. "However long it takes to make sure your human population receives the proper respect and dignity," she murmured. "If that happens quickly, I could be persuaded to stick around."

Klaus took the hint, pressing forward to kiss her. It was lingering, persuasive.

Before he could deepen it, though, she gently pulled at his hair. "I'm going to need accommodations for my partner, too," she demanded, giggling breathlessly at the small growl in his throat. "Knowing him and your family, there's a good chance Enzo will end up sleeping with Rebekah or Kol, probably both, but he should still have his own room."

"And you?" Klaus asked, his lips brushing against her own.

"I like the bar, and this bed is nice," she answered with a nip. "But we'll need to discuss color schemes for the walls and the bedding. I also want a new painting, of the villa in Tuscany." Her heart swelled in a sweet ache, begging her for a bit of courage. "I miss it sometimes, almost as much as I missed you."

His hands rose to cup her face, and Klaus took his time to place reverent kisses along her features. "Whatever you want, love, it's yours," he promised, moving her hand to cover his heart.

Tears shining in her eyes, Caroline nodded and squeezed her fingers between his. "I want it all."


	4. A Fashionable Couple

**Klaroline AU Week Day 4: All Human**

 **Caroline Forbes has run the infamous Klaus Mikaelson's atelier for years now. As much as she's treasured the responsibility of translating his designs to real works of art, all she wants is to do the same for her ideas. But breaking away from her boss is more difficult than she expected, especially when he only just proposed to her.**

* * *

Her nails tapped nervously against the glass desktop, the occasional clink of her engagement ring especially damning in her ears. She stared at the sketches lying before her as though they held a deeper truth she so desperately needed to justify the conversation she had delayed at every turn.

Overwhelmed, Caroline stood up, leaving her heels abandoned to pace her office in bare feet.

"I love you," she rehearsed aloud, the only other sound in her office the passing London traffic noises floating through her open window. "Nothing has to change in our personal life, I don't want anything in our personal life to change. But professionally, I need to move forward with my own fashion line, completely separate from NKM. I still don't have a name for it, or a formal business plan, or even an idea how to turn this from a pipe dream into a reality, but only because I can't bring myself to make these decisions without talking to you. Now."

Caroline took a deep breath, if only to calm her racing heart. The logical part of her knew that Klaus would support her, no matter what. He knew exactly who she was, her hopes and her dreams of running her own fashion house, when he proposed just a week earlier. She had been running the NKM atelier for three years, having been poached from her rising career at Ralph Lauren, and there was no way for her to advance further without leaving altogether.

But even though they both knew this day was inevitable, Caroline was terrified that Klaus wouldn't have the logical response. The artistic temperament and controlling tendencies created a volatile mix on her fiancé's good days, let alone when faced with unfavorable circumstances.

She could definitely hold her own, but the ensuing tantrum would likely be worse than the navy/midnight debacle of Fashion Week 2016.; that was three hours of picking apart delicate beading she would never get back.

Fighting the urge to bite her nails, Caroline startled at a light knock on her office door. "Hey," she sighed in greeting.

"Careful, love, I might think you weren't happy to see me." Klaus moved to press a lingering kiss on her cheek and ran a soothing hand up her back. "Everything all right?"

"Yeah," she nodded, her nerves already calming as she leaned forward to kiss him properly. "I finished up the inventory sheets for us to go over together."

His eyes trailed to her desktop, brow raising at the sketches lying there, in the open. "Those don't look like inventory sheets."

Wincing, Caroline glanced to her concepts for a debut line before meeting his expectant gaze. The words were rushing out of her before she could even take a breath. "Iwantmyownlabel." When Klaus didn't say anything, though, she swallowed her impending panic and continued with feigned confidence. "My focus so far has mainly been women's casual, which is a totally different market than NKM. And I know I have a lot of work to do, this business isn't just sketches. It's investors and suppliers, seamstresses I can trust with my designs, industry contacts for media and photographers and-"

A small laugh burst from Klaus, deep dimples cutting into his cheeks as he could no longer hide a smile.

Her own excited smile fell. "Are you laughing at me?" She wasn't sure what felt worse, the disappointing lack of support or the insulting joke she appeared to be for his amusement. Her chest suddenly puffed up with indignation and she jabbed a finger in his face. "Excuse you, mister, but I've been running your brand pretty effectively, allowing you to earn more than enough prestige and wealth to afford this pretty rock on my finger, a rock I'm going to need a damn good reason not to throw at your feet if you don't stop laughing at me for finally getting the guts to share my dream with you."

Klaus pursed his lips together, trying for any semblance of gravity. "Sweetheart, I'm not laughing at you," he promised despite a few more chuckles at her expense.

"Then tell your goofy grin," she spat with her arms crossed.

It took another moment for him to slacken his expression, but Klaus did manage to gravely hold her hands. His thumb grazed across her engagement ring fondly. "You've done a wonderful job here, with both the atelier and myself. While I don't intend to lose you anytime soon," he warned, smirking up at her, "NKM will have a difficult time finding anyone who could compare."

She laced their fingers together. "So, you do think I can do this? I'm not crazy for leaving the brand altogether?"

His answer was to kiss her softly until her arms wound around his neck. "You," he whispered against her lips, "can do anything you want, and I know you'd never forgive me for just granting you an NKM line of your own."

"Gold digger chic is so not my style," Caroline giggled, happy that he seemed to truly understand her.

"But," Klaus continued, "I hope you'll take full advantage of our position in the industry, as well as the contacts you've undoubtedly made here. I can help get you meetings, if you'd like."

Considering it, Caroline shrugged before shaking her head. "I reserve the right to change my mind, but the contacts will be enough for now, with the expectation that your Rolodex is for emergencies only."

He bit her lip playfully before edging them over to the desk. "Can I see more?"

Caroline rolled her eyes, already opening the drawer that held her notebooks. "You're such a nerd," she groaned as she handed them over. "No making fun of my shading, not all of us went to a fancy art school."

"Yes, love," he answered dutifully, already immersed in the first sketch he found. Next to the main design, he found a list of random words and variations of Caroline's name. "How long have you been practicing your Caroline Mikaelson signature? This seems older than a week."

"You got me," she deadpanned. "I tricked you into proposing because I liked the way my married name would sound. I'm going to keep Forbes, but a girl needs her options."

Pinching her side, Klaus looked more closely at the list. "These is the branding you're considering," he realized.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, reading over his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm still not decided on any of them."

"Anyone leading the pack?"

Caroline smiled. "I think I like Mystic."


	5. The Floral Stench of Death

**Klaroline AU Week Day Five: Mythology and Creatures**

 **The old gods had fallen into mere myth, relegated to a muted life among the mortals. Sometimes, one needs a reminder of what it means to rule the Underworld. (Hades and Persephone AU, with an _American Gods_ bent)**

* * *

Klaus was busy with the books when a ringing bell broke the austere silence of his funeral home. His eyebrow raised at the interruption; few bothered to cross his threshold anymore, not without a corpse to visit. Only his closest family made the effort, which was why he was surprised to find a great nephew loitering in the foyer.

"Anteros," he greeted with suspicion. "I'd thought you long forgotten, unlike your arse of a brother."

The gods of old were a scattered bunch, but a few of the Greeks had managed to remain a part of human knowledge. Eros made an annoying resurgence every February, his name invoked too often for Klaus's liking; the popularity made him cocky. But sexual attraction was an easy thing to celebrate, and Anteros encouraged a deeper love meant to be requited in full. Klaus always found that to be more interesting.

Shuffling uncomfortably, the younger brother even seemed to hold a proper respect for the power Klaus still held in the world. "I go by Stefan," he explained carefully, knowing the importance of names among their kind.

His real name had been rendered unusable by unfriendly myths and ridiculous cartoons, an unfortunate problem that irked Klaus to no end. Persephone chose well for its replacement, but he missed the reverence of those terrified of Hades himself. This Stefan was a delightful memory of eons past. "Why are you here, Stefan? Not many would dare to ask favors of the Underworld."

"Eros- Damon," Stefan cleared his throat, concern furrowing his brow. "My brother has gone missing."

Lips pulling into a smirk, Klaus's head canted to the side as the boy squirmed. "I fail to see why that is my problem," he responded cheerfully. "These days, I'm a simple estate lawyer who happens to run a successful business providing mortuary services."

Stefan bristled. "You're the god of death," he accused, though his voice was strained with the effort to sound polite. "I would hardly belittle your influence in this world, and I think you know what happened to him."

"He hasn't fallen under my purview, if that's what you're asking." Klaus shrugged, taking great pleasure in the obvious irritation Stefan poorly hid. "Perhaps it is for the best. Your brother's not a favorite among the old guard, I doubt many would miss him."

"My wife is worried, as am I," he countered, ignoring the gleefully curious look on the god before him. "Certain friends directed me here, loathe as I am to discover why. Have you seen him?"

Klaus dragged his tongue across his lips, hands folded behind his back as he stepped into Stefan's space. "It was my duty to take stock of a man's life," he all but purred, a thrill of power firing through his veins. "To lay judgment for his actions and to decide the course of his eternity in the Underworld."

Hazel eyes wide with a lack of guile, Stefan fought not to lean back from Klaus's intrusion. "So?"

"So," Klaus mocked, "there are no secrets that can be kept from me. I see it all. Your wife, Stefan, does she love your brother?"

Fists curling in his Henley, Klaus smiled, a ferocious thing as Stefan shoved him against a wall. "Where is he?"

Chuckling, Klaus easily broke the finger that held a shiny silver ring, forcing Stefan to release him. "A human, too." He clucked his tongue in faux remorse. "Imagine Aphrodite's sons, torn between the same woman. She loves you, but she lusts for him. Think of the stories that would be told." But his smile turned wicked, a hand reaching up to grip the boy's throat. "If we weren't dying out, that is."

Stefan squeezed his eyes shut, muttering a silent goodbye to Elena, only for them to fly open as the god of death released him from his fate.

"Try next door," Klaus dismissed with a wave. "You can buy your wife some pretty flowers, so she can properly mourn your brother." Without bothering to watch Stefan leave, he went back to his work. Some luck, and he might not be late for his evening plans.

* * *

"And you're going to grow deep," Caroline whispered to the rose cactus, "just be sure to remain moist." She ran a finger along one of the plant's spines, coating it with the viscous blood that ran from the man's thigh it pierced. "I want the pain to last."

There were days that Caroline missed the simple life of tending her mother's garden, but Persephone's botanical prowess still thrived as a florist in the modern world. What lacked were the opportunities to punish those who wronged her, with their behavior, their attitude, their disregard for her position.

As Eros - or Damon, as he preferred to be called, the douche - had committed all three wrongs, she delighted in the angry hiss that came from her favorite plant box.

"I already apologized," Damon spat, though breathless with contained agony as a stinging nettle wound around his neck. "You were just a cute blonde at the bar, how was I supposed to know who you were?"

Smiling, she urged the hemlock away from his lips. "You were just to keep him still," she scolded the poisonous plant. "Any more, and it will be too quick." Her fingers ran lovingly through the soil half covering his naked, prostrate form.

The chime hanging over her door sang out, jauntily clashing with the pop music playing in her shop. "Just a minute," she called, clearing her hands of dirt. Standing, she rolled her eyes as Damon greedily tracked her sundress up the line of her leg.

This was just one reason why he was going to rot for as long as it took him to die.

Leaving the refrigerated storage room, Caroline found a pretty young man among her more exotic lilies. "You have good taste," she greeted approvingly. "Can I help you?"

"I hope so."

She frowned at the hesitant, almost fearful tone of his voice. Hardly anyone would fear Persephone at first sight, let alone her persona of Caroline Forbes. While she enjoyed the reminiscence of her old reputation, the suddenness of it all put her on edge. Her head canted to the side as recognition hit. "I know you."

Stefan nodded, not bothering to deny the Olympic blood that tied them together. "I suspect you know my brother as well," he answered instead. "Klaus sent me here. Do you have Damon?"

"He's asked for you." Determination in every step, Caroline walked through the aisles of her shop, plucking cut flowers and greenery to some unknown rhythm. "Well, he asked for Elena, but your name was sprinkled in there, too," she explained, nonchalant.

Sighing, Stefan ran a hand across his face. "Dare I ask what he did to offend you, your grace?"

She positively preened at the use of her former title. To reward his manners, Caroline decided to grant him peace of mind. "I happened to run into your brother last night while having drinks with a friend," she explained. "He seemed to think a pleasant conversation was an invitation to drug my margarita."

Like a light had been extinguished, his shoulders sagged in resignation. "Please, I know he doesn't deserve mercy," Stefan begged, "but-"

Caroline held up a quelling hand, her glare deceptively friendly. "And when informed of his mistake in attempting to take advantage of the queen of the underworld, he laughed." Her expression hardened, making Stefan wince. "In my face." But as quickly as it came, the stern frown left and a bright smile was in its place. "You seem nice," she told the young god, bouncing on her toes as she went about wrapping the bouquet she had gathered. "I'll let you say goodbye."

Before Stefan could follow her nod to the back room, though, her eyebrows raised in warning. "If you try to free him, you'll pray my plants kill you before I do."

With an audible swallow, he left her alone. She set the bouquet in a lovely crystal vase, and she was busy arranging it for perfect balance when her door chimed again. Glancing up to the clock on her wall, she shook her head. Even with a cheerful smile on her face, Caroline's voice fell flat with disappointment. "You're late."

"My apologies, love," Klaus answered lightly, careful not to brush the vines slithered up the doorway on his way in. Leaning on the countertop, he watched her murmur encouragement to a too small flower until it grew to her satisfaction. "I'm afraid I suffered the same distraction of Stefan's brotherly woes."

Caroline shrugged, fondly patting the display before setting it aside, just outside his reach. Reaching across the counter, she welcomed her husband with a kiss. "Unfortunately, it takes more than a few growing buds to sap a god of his energy," she sighed, brushing through Klaus's brassy curls. "But I hope a few months in my planters will teach young Damon a lesson he won't soon forget."

Turning into her touch, Klaus pressed a kiss to her wrist. "I wish you would let me take care of him."

"And I wish you would let me enjoy hunting him down over the centuries when he surely does this again," she sighed, adopting what she called his patronizing tone.

Klaus knew better than to keep up the fight, so he held out his hand. "Shall we?"

Happily, she let him lead her toward the door. "Oh, Stefan," she called. The god returned obediently, looking worse for the wear. "Mythic Florist is closed for a standing dinner date, but that arrangement is yours, on the house." Caroline winked at his utter bemusement. "It should go where Elena sleeps. Hyacinth to promote her grieving process for your brother, hyssop for the sacrifice you both make for his foolishness, and forget-me-nots to remind her of the true love she still has in you." She leaned into Klaus, her own love that had sustained her through the ages. "Rot and ruin like Damon is only as good as the healing it can provoke."

Tense with anger, Stefan moved to throw the vase. Klaus, however, laughed. "My wife is a generous soul," he said, kissing her temple. But turning back to Stefan, his smirk turned dangerous. "Don't test it."

As Stefan stalked out of the shop, still clutching the vase and powerless to challenge them, Caroline laced her fingers with Klaus's. "He'll be back."

Klaus smiled, squeezing her hand. It had been so long since their status had been recognized, even mere acknowledgement a powerful taste of addictive belief. "We can only hope."


	6. A Most Impressive Donor

**Klaroline AU Week Day 6: Canon-ish**

 **Three million dollars. _Three million dollars?!_**

* * *

Gingerly stepping through the detritus of human limbs and broken glasses, Caroline didn't bother to hide her disgust at the seedy bar or the lone hybrid she found lurking in it. "Seriously?" she cried as she slid in congealed blood. "Ugh, these are new shoes."

"Put it on my tab, love." Klaus raised his scotch in drunken acknowledgement. "Rebekah complained about giving away her shoe budget to you, it's almost poetic for you to get a pair from the deal."

Caroline scoffed as she cleared his table, plopping down a thick portfolio instead. "About that, if you insist on making ludicrous donations to make up for not visiting your daughter at school, then you better believe I will track you down for investor meetings," she said in clipped tones.

He snorted derisively, only for her to snatch the drink right from his hand. "Careful," he warned, gold glinting in his eyes.

"Oh, bite me." Twice he had bitten her, and yet she survived long enough to run his child's school; her sass was practically bulletproof. Sitting, Caroline opened her portfolio, topped with a recent photo of Hope holding a handmade poster. "Her history project was on the birth of New Orleans, go figure. She misses you, but Hope is a strong kid, if a little stubborn."

Klaus's lips pulled at that, though she could tell he was trying to hide his reaction. "I thought this was supposed to be about my investment."

Rolling her eyes, Caroline decided it would be better just to move things along. Rebekah mentioned the world tour tantrum he was on, but apparently she had underestimated how self-pity manifested after a thousand years. "Before I get into why three million dollars is an excessive donation that in no way buys you special favors or weird requests down the line," she clearly pointed out, softening only at his surprisingly attentive expression, "but thank you. We've had three new students contact us, with more coming every week."

"I know," Klaus smirked, leaning back into his chair. Perfectly at ease among the destruction of his bender, somehow he managed to act superior in his super annoying way.

Caroline frowned disapprovingly. "What did you do?"

He picked through the papers she had in the folder, office invoices and teacher profiles. "One needs a hobby when forcibly removed from home and family," he answered, his voice lacking in real sentiment.

Throwing her hand out in a wide gesture, Caroline pinned him with a glare. "Rampant murder is not a hobby."

"Agree to disagree, love," he shrugged, "but I don't take kindly to threats against my brother." He didn't bother to elaborate, and Caroline didn't really want the details. "Regardless, I meant that in my travels, I occasionally come across a gifted student in need of guidance."

"You're sending them to me?"

His eyebrows raised in mock surprise. "You did open a school for gifted children."

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, unsure how to respond. On one hand, their accounts were pretty flush to handle the sudden influx of students; on the other… "Stop interfering!" Caroline finally burst out, leaving Klaus to a stony silence.

"Look, this is what I wanted to talk to you about," she sighed.

"What's that?"

Though he seemed genuinely curious underneath a hard edge, Klaus's mood swings could strike like whiplash. Caroline needed to tread carefully. "I want you to be involved with the school, with Hope and her education," she prefaced. "But there has to be a line, Klaus. I can't keep accepting large amounts of money if it also means you going behind my back with schemes that affect the school."

It had been on mind ever since she first got his letter; Mikaelson gifts came with strings. She knew that well as a veteran of throwing diamond bracelets at his feet. "I am grateful for your donation. I just need to make sure we have the proper boundaries in place."

Klaus tilted his head, his eyes roving her form. "Rules are meant to be broken, sweetheart."

"Don't be a jerk." Caroline would likely have a headache from rolling her eyes so much. Extenuating circumstances aside, she had no intention of fraternizing with a parent. "You can have a seat on the board and regular investor meetings, but I will make you regret trying to tell me how to run daily operations."

Shrugging, Klaus lifted a hidden bottle of scotch to his lips. "Agreed. Hayley can have my vote while she resides in Mystic Falls," he capitulated. "As for these meetings, I suppose I can make sure they're in better venues."

Caroline's voice fell to a deadpan, "You think?"

He smirked, looking more content. "Three months seems like a reasonable interval."

"Six."

"Four, final offer."

"Done," she sighed. Seeing him three times a year wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, not if it meant keeping him in touch with Hope's progress.

Nodding, Klaus offered her the bottle, which she happily accepted. "Rome is lovely in April," he said idly.

 _Rome. Paris. Tokyo._

She shrugged off the old memory, taking a large gulp of scotch instead. Her eyes darted around the room and the carnage that was starting to smell. "You're okay, right?" she asked, a deep worry finally finding its words. "This massacre was about your brother, you haven't lost your mind in a constantly drunken rage."

"Moderation has never been my strong suit."

Snorting, Caroline handed back the bottle. "Rebekah says you get like this every once in a while, figured it would be worse being separated from Hope."

He sighed, looking down. "It's better than I expected," he admitted, "though I suspect that's in large part to you. It helps knowing she's in good hands."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she joked, bumping her shoulder against his. "Hope really is doing great, Klaus. Just, keep in touch. Don't go off the deep end without calling first. Deal?"

"I think that depends on your definition of the deep end." The hand in his lap had wandered to her knee, the warmth of the contact settling them both. "One thing I can promise, though, is that I would never put Hope or the school in danger."

Scoffing again, Caroline elbowed him. "I know that. Not only would I nag you within an inch of your life, but even bajillion-year-old hybrids have standards. But do keep your mitts off my administrative decisions."

Klaus chuckled, "Yes, sweetheart."


	7. Delayed Effects

**Klaroline AU Week Day 7: Trope x Trope**

 **Caroline loved magic and the puzzles it presented, and she was never one to turn down a challenge. As she learns while attending the Magical Alliance Conference, Klaus Mikaelson is nothing but a challenge. (HP x Soulmates AU)**

* * *

Intent on making some sort of progress, Caroline stared at her brainstorming list, hoping for any spark of inspiration. A quiet Sunday in Ilvermorny's library was usually enough for her to focus, the only distraction was half of her study group being annoyingly productive.

Bonnie pointed her wand toward her notebook, the open page swathed in multicolored patches of highlighter ink. Mumbling softly, she smiled as an overwhelming scent of blueberries surrounded their table.

As uncomfortable as the intense smell was, Caroline's eyes didn't water until the blueberries were abruptly replaced by a sour pinch of lemon. "Bonnie!"

She had already moved from yellow to pink, a sickeningly sweet rosewater taking over. "Sorry," Bonnie winced. "Too strong?"

"Just a bit." Huffing out her own disappointment, Caroline faked an encouraging smile. "At least your charm is working, I can't even think of an idea for my final project."

"You just need a problem to solve," Bonnie shrugged. "That's how I found mine. I used to trick myself into remembering algebra by studying with peppermints, then eating them during the test. With my scented highlighter spell, I can associate each subject with a particular smell. Maybe I'll actually pass Arithmancy with better than an Ordinary."

Caroline frowned. "You really hate numbers, don't you?"

Nodding gravely, Bonnie focused again on her work. "So much."

They both laughed quietly, though Mr. Bingham still shushed them from behind the reference desk. His stern glare deepened when the library doors burst open and Katherine Pierce strolled in without a care for the noise.

"What's wrong with you?" Bonnie asked when she dropped next to her with a dramatic sigh.

"Can twins get divorced? Elena's whining again, and I want my genes back."

"She stole your jeans?"

Katherine rolled her eyes and threw a highlighter at Caroline. "Not funny, Care. I can't believe I shared a womb with her without taking the opportunity to absorb her."

Grimacing at the thought, Bonnie dug an elbow into her side. "Don't be mean."

Eyes wide and near to tears, Katherine adopted the breathy tone she called Elena Voice. "I don't know what to do," she pouted. "Stefan is so nice, but Damon…" She let out an exaggeratedly mournful sigh. "Is it wrong I can't decide?" Scoffing, her own catlike smirk appeared again. "I guess not, because I definitely fucked them both."

"Kat!"

Both girls wilted under Mr. Bingham's withering look at their outburst. "Sorry!" Caroline called out in a softer voice as Bonnie waved.

Katherine shrugged, unconcerned. "I don't know why she's so conflicted when Stefan's the better lay, by far."

"Nice," Bonnie chided before her eyes lit up with an idea. "Care, maybe that should be your project!"

Narrowing her eyes, Caroline shook her head. "Which Salvawhore is better in bed? A spell seems wasteful when you can apparently just ask Kat."

While Katherine sniggered, Bonnie rushed to explain. "No, Elena's problem of who she's supposed to be with. Maybe you could create a soulmate charm."

"Who finds their soulmate in high school?" Katherine snorted, but Caroline pursed her mouth in intrigued thought.

"The Sorting Ceremony," she mused. "The statues choose us somehow, right? And Hogwarts has that hat." Scribbling down some notes, Caroline kept thinking aloud. "The enchantments are probably stronger than anything I could come up with, but maybe I should think smaller. A spell that has to be customized to each person, rather than anyone who comes along."

With a crooked scowl, Katherine murmured her discontent. "Sounds like an awful lot of work for just one person. And good luck getting Elena to agree, I think she enjoys having her boys work for it."

Caroline rolled her eyes, already set on her path. Her brainstorm list was quickly replaced by potential research topics. "Then I'll just have to test it on myself and see what happens. There might be a soulmate out there waiting for me to find them."

After weeks of working with both Bonnie and their Charms teacher, though, Caroline was disappointed when her spell produced no results. Her theoretical groundwork and lack of adverse effects ensured her final grade, especially considering the lofty goal; still, it irked her to no end that it didn't work. On the bright side, there was no pressure to find whatever person the spell might have led her to.

Soulmates just didn't exist.

* * *

"Yes, Mom," Caroline promised, pressing the phone more tightly to her ear upon entering the crowded lobby. "I made it safely to the hotel and need to check into the conference. Uh huh, I love you, too. I'll bring you back an 'I heart London' shirt."

Hanging up, Caroline approached the table emblazoned with MAC in gold filigree, the simple logo blending in well to the no-Ma- muggle world. A no-nonsense witch watched her with suspicion, tapping a pen against a clipboard. "Name and identification?"

"Caroline Forbes." She handed over her passport and waited on bouncing toes as the witch scanned her list. The Magical Alliance Conference was the annual professional development event for wizards and witches working in various state bureaucracies; Caroline had been dreaming about it since graduating from Ilvermorny five years earlier. Her Charms and Potions proficiencies suited her well to Accidental Magic Response, and she was eager to learn what her counterparts faced around the world.

And all that stood between her and networking glory was a prim woman who did not look at all impressed by her bright pink suit, despite being perfectly tailored and cute to boot.

Finally, a check mark and severe nod was all the process entailed, until the woman cleared her throat expectantly. "The password is 'stardust.'"

With an excited smile, Caroline smoothly walked to the door, pulling her suitcase behind her. She whispered the password, only to frown when the handle still didn't budge.

"Americans," the witch scoffed.

Turning to defend herself from this bitch witch, Caroline gave a small shriek when her shoulder didn't hit the door as expected. The lack of sensation threw her off balance and she fell through what she had thought was a solid door. Raucous noise filled her ears, but it was the sturdy pair of arms catching her before she could crash to the floor she was focused on.

"Whoa, gorgeous," an affable British voice chuckled. Caroline glanced up to see a very attractive man helping to stand her upright. "Let me guess...American?"

Momentarily distracted by the enormous room littered with tables of vendors and crowds of people mingling, Caroline scoffed as she processed his words. "What?" she snapped. "Do I have a Made in the USA stamp on my forehead?"

"Well, now you do," he teased with a wink. "No, you're not the first to fall through the door, it's become a bit of a running joke. Rumor is you all have more space in the colonies, don't have to rely on the same standard of secrecy. Hiding in plain sight is old hat for us. Our train to Hogwarts boards in King's Cross-"

"Hence the secret doors, gotcha." Caroline huffed, reaching for the handle of the suitcase she had dropped in her fall. "Know where this brazen American can check into the conference?"

He nodded his head to the nearest table, dripping with purple and gold. "With London playing host, our Ministry of Magic is handling the welcome," he explained, holding out his hand. "Enzo St. John, Obliviator."

"Oh!" Caroline perked up, eagerly shaking his hand. "I'm in Accidental Magic Response, we work with Obliviators all the time. Caroline Forbes, I work out of Washington, D.C. This is my first time out of the country, let alone attending MAC."

Chuckling at her enthusiasm, Enzo led her to the registration table. "Well then, welcome to London, Caroline." With a joking bow, he drifted into the crowd. She watched him go, wondering if she had made her first conference friend, when her eyes landed on another man chatting with an enchanted items vendor.

Brassy curls artfully disheveled and dimples deep in his cheeks, Caroline couldn't get over how pretty he was. Handsome men caught her attention all the time, but something about the leather necklaces dipping into the open collar of his Henley drew her in. She hadn't noticed she was staring, though, until someone behind her cleared their throat. "Miss?"

Shaking her head, Caroline whirled around to face the witch who called for her. After a quick wand check and picking up her welcome packet, she really wanted to melt off the ickiness of her long flight in hot shower. As she wound her way to the elevators, though, it was hard not to get distracted by the sheer number of people in the room.

Caroline had never seen such a collection of magical beings in one place, let alone somewhere as mundane as a hotel conference center. Goblins from Gringotts were offering financial advice; a dragon protection group was handing out flyers against illegal harvesting practices for potion ingredients; Hogwarts students even had their own table to present innovative magic projects. It reminded Caroline of her own project back in the day.

A few minutes into listening to a precocious young wizard explain the wastefulness of vanishing spoiled potions, an odd awareness warmed the back of Caroline's neck. She subtly turned to glance around the room.

The pretty man was watching her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Caroline blinked in surprise, but a flattered smile fought to make itself known. He seemed about to approach when a similarly pretty woman grabbed his elbow, all but dragging him to some other corner of the massive hall.

Whether it was his girlfriend or his wife, Caroline had no desire to flirt with a taken man. Her colleagues had warned about MAC affairs; while a random hookup didn't sound terrible, ruining her first conference with complicated dimples wasn't worth it. Rolling her eyes, she tried to bring her focus back to the student eagerly detailing their project theory.

But she couldn't resist the pull of watching him cross the room. A strong burn of attraction fizzled under her skin when she realized he was looking back at her.

* * *

A bluebell flame danced in the center of the table, and Caroline smiled as Enzo kept changing its color nonverbally. "You're good at that."

"Charms not your thing, gorgeous?" he teased.

She nudged him playfully with her shoulder, glad to have found him in the crowded Welcome Mixer. Enzo was a friendly face, and it was surprisingly easy for Caroline to let him entertain her. "I was talking about the silent incantation," she explained, "but thanks for the vote of confidence. Charms was actually my favorite subject at Ilvermorny."

Enzo shrugged. "I preferred Quidditch myself, but not everyone can make a living of it."

Nursing her firewhiskey cocktail, Caroline squinted her eyes in curiosity. "How did you fall into Obliviating? That can be a tricky business."

"I worked at a pub right out of Hogwarts, a muggle neighborhood but with a fair number of witchy patrons," he explained. "On occasion, one of the muggles would see something they shouldn't remember, lest the Ministry were to shut us down. With practice, my precision improved until I could remove the memory of magic without touching the rest of their evening. A bloke from the Ministry noticed, insisted I interview with his department."

"And the rest is history." Caroline clinked her glass with his. "It's a better story than mine. My friend Katherine accidentally grew horns courtesy of an ex-boyfriend's rotten jinx.

Enzo let out a booming laugh. "I have to disagree, gorgeous, that sounds like an excellent story."

"No," she drawled, gravely shaking her head, "because my counterspell before we called Accidental Magic just made it worse by adding a tail. The responders glared at me the whole time they examined Kat, muttering about how stupid it was for wizards under twenty-one to be given wands."

Stifling more chuckles, Enzo eyed her suspiciously. "You joined out of spite, didn't you?"

"Hell, yes. And I beat one of those guys for my current position," she answered, preening in her triumph. Before she could add the entertaining details, however, a perfectly manicured hand slid up Enzo's arm. Caroline glanced up to see a woman with a giant engagement ring and murder in her eyes. "Hi," she greeted kindly, even if the blatant suspicion put Caroline on edge. "You must be Rebekah, Enzo has told me so much about you."

"My fiance," Rebekah bit out in a possessive tone, "always making friends. How did you two latch onto each other?"

With an exaggerated wink, Enzo gave her a roguish smile. "Gorgeous here works in Accidental Magic Response," he answered. "She actually enjoys hearing about Obliviation, unlike some I could mention."

Rebekah rolled her eyes, though she all but melted into Enzo's side as she stole a drink from his glass. "Your whole career is one spell."

The barb sounded like an old fight the couple revisited time and again; Caroline smiled at their easy affection, but something niggled in the back of her mind. "You look familiar," she realized, confused as to where she would have seen Rebekah before.

"I can't imagine why," the other woman dismissed easily, instead waving toward someone at the bar. "Nik!"

Caroline turned to find a familiar pair of dimples walking toward them, a scotch and a violently pink cocktail in each hand. The connection clicked in her mind that Rebekah was the woman who had dragged the handsome guy away earlier, but obviously not his girlfriend if she was engaged to Enzo, she was pleased to note.

"Sister," the mystery man greeted as he slid the martini glass in front of Rebekah. He raised his own to Enzo before his eyes slid to Caroline. "Hello, love. Klaus Mikaelson. And who might you be?"

Her eyes rolled on instinct, of course someone as pretty as him came with sleazy pick-up tactics. But she liked Enzo, and even Rebekah didn't seem completely awful, so she reined in the worst of her bitchiness. "Caroline Forbes," she introduced herself, her voice only a little snippy. "Accidental Magic Response in D.C."

Klaus chuckled into his tumbler. "I didn't realize Americans cared enough to fix their mistakes, let alone hire people to do it for them."

Mouth twisting into an offended grimace, Caroline crossed her arms defiantly. "Excuse me?"

"Klaus is a Curse-Breaker," Enzo explained in a resigned sigh. "Tends to look down on anyone else who doesn't meet the smarmy requirements of his field."

Rather than looking just as offended, though, Klaus smirked in amusement. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about him just pushed her buttons. "Says the Obliviator."

The freaking superiority complex didn't help.

"Put your willies away, boys," Rebekah said, clearly bored. "You're both pretty."

Caroline scoffed and drained the last of her firewhiskey. "I think I'm going to call it a night, there's a panel on the effect of certain wand components on spells early tomorrow." Pinning Klaus with her best mean girl smile, she oozed genteel disdain. "After all, us non-Curse-Breakers need all the help we can get to justify our pitiful careers."

Surprisingly, Rebekah favored her with an impressed smile as Enzo nodded. "We'll see you around, gorgeous," he waved.

Nodding, Caroline spun on her heel, still buzzing with irritation. She hadn't noticed anyone following her until a large hand hit the elevator call button before she could. Her eyes traced up the Henley-clad arm until she found Klaus with a mildly chagrined expression. "What, did you have a few more insults for my profession?"

"Always," he shrugged, grinning when she snorted indelicately. "Kidding, love. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Gee, I wonder why."

Klaus laughed, a hoarse sound that struck Caroline to her core - he really was too attractive. "A fresh start, then, perhaps?" He held out a hand, just as the elevator doors opened. "Klaus Mikaelson, Curse-Breaker and occasional arse."

Though Caroline did look longingly to the waiting elevator, she couldn't help but feel drawn back to him. "Caroline Forbes, with the American temper," she sighed, reaching out to shake his hand.

As soon as they made contact, though, a new awareness made itself known within her. By the sudden confusion in his eyes, Klaus must have felt it, too. Blinking, Caroline struggled to find any words, but her grip on his hand never wavered. "I- Uh-"

He pulled her closer, almost unconsciously. "Um, you haven't imbibed in any of the aphrodisiac potions that tend to float around these mixers, have you?" His voice had lowered, somehow more intimate in a way that Caroline found herself enjoying. "This doesn't feel like anything I've tried before, but it seems like an after-effect of some elixir or spell or-"

"Charm." The answer echoed from her heart, a memory embedded with the scent of blueberries wafting from deep within her brain. "I don't believe this."

"What, love?"

Her head shook, frantic even if his close proximity held a strange sense of calming. "You're going to think I'm crazy."

Tongue swiping greedily along his lower lip, Klaus carded his fingers through her loose curls, further closing the distance between them. "Try me." It was an entreaty, a temptation.

Caroline sucked in a breath, hoping to break through the heady urge to press against this total stranger. Her shoulders raised uncertainly as she considered an appropriate way to broach her prevailing theory. "Do you believe in soulmates? Because I might have accidentally underestimated high school me in being able to identify them."

With an intrigued arch of his eyebrow, Klaus smirked as a hand possessively landed on her waist. "This sounds like a conversation best held over drinks." His eyes narrowed in a challenge Caroline felt no inclination to refuse. "Shall we?"


End file.
